Why Johanna Really Hates Katniss
by johannasbreasts
Summary: This will be kind of AU. It's just a little head-canon I came up with that explains the real reasons Johanna hates Katniss. Johanna/OFC, Joniss. Rated M to be safe/for future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi guys. I'm pretty new at this, so I'm just going to warn you that it could probably use a little work, and I'm more than open to suggestions and constructive criticism. This is the first chapter. It's probably a little shorter than most others will be. **

**Anyway, I own nothing but Quinterra. The rest belong to Suzanne Collins, genius that she is. I'm just borrowing.**

**JOHANNA**

I lowered myself into the chair on the stage. I didn't want to be here, and the expression I wore on my face made that fact abundantly clear. I looked out at the crowd and saw all the worried faces, fearing that either themselves or someone they loved would be sent to die today. The woman from the Capitol, whose name I can't quite remember grinned excitedly and began to speak. "Happy Hunger Games everyone! And may the odds be EVER in your favor." She reached out and the mayor handed her a bucket full of paper slips. "As usual, we'll start with our girls!" She reached into the bucket and pulled out a slip of paper. "And our female tribute is…" She smiled widely, "Quinterra Duskline!" I recognized that name. Where did I know that name from? Suddenly it hit me. Her older sister had been a tribute the year before. She had been killed by her district partner. He had slit her throat in her sleep after making an alliance with her. I saw the girl stare at the stage with an expression of shock. She stumbled up to the stage. The Capitol woman nearly squealed with delight, "Another Duskline! What an exciting turn of events!" I couldn't help but give the woman my infamous glare, who the hell was she to be excited that this girl was about to die in the same event that killed her sister. I had liked the older Duskline girl. She had a shot at winning it if she hadn't been so trusting. I barely pulled myself out of my thoughts in time to hear, "Isaiah Nocthill!"

The boy actually smirked at Quinterra, when he shook her hand I heard him whisper to her, "I'm not planning to kill you, but maybe it'd be better if you didn't sleep anyway." I saw Quinterra stiffen, but she just grasped his hand and twisted his wrist until I heard it snap with a sweet yet sarcastic smile on her face. The boy let out a yelp and the peacekeepers looked at each other as if they had no idea what the hell they were supposed to do about all of this. I for one just cracked up laughing. Oh yes, I thought, I liked this girl very much. I realized everyone was staring at me but I just couldn't find it in myself to actually give a damn. I glanced up at Quinterra and she gave me a curious look before grinning at me. Then the peacekeepers led the two to the Justice Building so that they could say goodbye to their friends and families. I got up out of the chair and began making my way to my house in the Victor's Village to get the things I would need for my trip to the Capitol.

**Quinterra**

The peacekeepers beckoned us off the stage and led us over to the Justice Building. I hated this part. There was only one person to whom I meant enough for them to come visit me, my younger sister, Serena. I lived in the community home, my mother died in childbirth and my father in a logging accident not very long after my sister had been killed in the games. If I'm being honest with myself, I'm know certain that the accident was nothing of the sort. He had killed himself. He had killed himself and left us all alone. I was led to one room and Isaiah to another. Thank god. I think I might have killed him before the games even started. Who the hell did he think he was, making that joke about my sister? It was completely uncalled for. I hadn't meant to break his wrist, really, I hadn't. He just made me so angry that I reacted. I was lucky I hadn't been killed on the spot. I sat down on the plush red couch they provided for tributes and waited. It wasn't very long before the door opened and I saw those beautiful eyes peek in through the door. It's been said that all the Duskline girls are beautiful. My elder sister, Alixa, had the most beautiful blonde hair I had ever seen. It fell down her back like a golden waterfall, curling in all the right places. Every boy around had wanted to be her sweetheart. She had been reaped last year when she was 18 and now the boy who had been her fiancée spent all of his time in a bottle. Serena's hair was the loveliest red, it was deep and dark and curly, she was only five, but she was the most beautiful of us all. The entire district was in love with her. I looked plain in comparison to my sisters. My hair was black as night and fell in light waves down my back. I guess the boys liked me well enough, but I just wasn't interested in any of them. At first glance one would never have guessed that my sisters and I were related. But then when they saw the eyes there was no doubt. All three of us possessed eyes the color of the night sky, so perfectly dark blue that they bordered on black. Nobody ever doubted that we were our mother's children, for our facial features were obviously the same as hers. She had been the most beautiful woman in all of Seven, our father always told us.

The little red head bounced into the room with tears falling from her eyes. She launched herself into my arms and sobbed into my shoulder. "Hey there, sweet girl, it's going to be alright. Okay. It'll all be alright." I looked back to the door and to my surprise saw the elderly woman who had lived next door to us before my father died. She walked stiffly over to the couch and took my hand in hers. She handed me a necklace that I recognized, it had been my sister's token when she had been reaped for the games. "Thank you," I whispered, tearing up a bit.

She nodded at me, "Don't thank me. Make it home. Make it back for the little one."

I was startled at the vehemence in her voice, "I-I'll try. I'll try my hardest." The peacekeepers came in then and informed us that our time was up. They walked out and I couldn't stop the tears that came from my eyes.

**If you guys could please hit the lovely review button and let me know what you thing I would really greatly appreciate it. :D**

**I have more chapters written, and will be publishing at least one more soon.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's the second chapter guys. Enjoy. **

**Yet again, I own nothing but the idea of Quin. **

**Johanna**

I walked into the dining room on the train and saw that I was the last to arrive. Both tributes and Blight were already sitting at the table. Quinterra and Isaiah were definitely avoiding looking at each other, and Isaiah's arm was already in a cast. I sat down next to Quinterra, because she was namely my responsibility, but also because I really didn't like Isaiah. Who makes jokes like that about somebody's dead family members? He was lucky Quinterra only broke his arm, hell, if he'd said it to me, I would have killed him on the spot. A couple Avoxes brought out food and we all dug in. It didn't take long for the two tributes to fill up. And I wasn't especially hungry. So as the Avoxes were clearing the table I decided now was as good a time as ever to state the obvious, "I'm assuming you two want your mentoring sessions to be separate, then." Quinterra snapped her head up to meet my eyes and nodded gratefully. I wondered if she knew that separate mentoring was possible. "Okay then, Quinterra, you're with me." I stood and exited the room, with Quinterra running behind me to catch up. I led her to a compartment meant for strategizing and sat back down. She stood awkwardly just inside the room, so I motioned to the seats near me with a smile, "You can sit if you want to Quinterra. I try not to bite," I joked.

A grin lit up her face and she replied, "Call me Quin. Quinterra's a bit of a mouthful."

She sat in the chair across from mine and I began to talk, "I like you, Quin. You have… I dunno… attitude. Breaking that kid's wrist today showed everyone that." She looked away like she was embarrassed for her actions and I continued, "Personally, I'd have killed him." Her head shot up like a rocket and she raised an eyebrow at me, then grinned. I grinned back and pointed out, "See, there it is again. Not many people would dare to raise an eyebrow at me like that. That's good. An attitude like that will keep you alive out there." She nodded. "So, what're you good at?" I questioned.

She seemed to consider my question for a bit then stated, "I'm alright with an axe, but I'm better with knives. I can shoot well enough and I'm quick. But most of all, I'm smart."

I looked at her, considering whether or not my next question was a good idea, then decided that I needed to know, however painful it might be for her to answer, "Are you as smart as your sister?"

I had to give the girl kudos, she looked me straight in the eye as she responded, "Smarter. I don't trust as easy. I'm better at problem solving. But most of all, I've been preparing myself for this for a year, ever since she…" Quin broke off then and I saw how her lip was quivering. I decided to cut the kid a break, this had to be hard for her.

"Okay then, let's see how your analytical skills are. We'll watch the rest of the reapings, and I want you to give me your impression of each of the tributes," She seemed a little reluctant so I supplied, "I know you don't want to watch it. I know all of this, everything about it, sucks. But if you want to win, and personally, I think you could, then you need to start competing right now, because I can promise you that the tributes from all of the other districts are doing this same thing." She took a deep breath and nodded. I handed her a pencil and a piece of paper and told her to take as many notes about each of the tributes as she could. Then I turned on the television. The Capitol seal flashed over the screen and the recap of the reapings began.

**QUIN**

Both tributes from District One were volunteers, careers all the way. The girl was an 18 year old named Vanna. She was tall and blonde, with enough muscle that you could tell she wasn't weak, yet still feminine and very attractive. When she looked out at the crowd her green eyes gave away just how determined she was. Vanna was in it to win it, so to speak, a definite contender. Then again, when aren't the tributes from One contenders? The boy's name was Kingsley. He came forward from the group of 16 year olds to volunteer. He was huge. Dark skin topped with black hair and more muscles than I had ever seen on a human being outside of the games. I wasn't sure what to make of his eyes, they were dark enough to be effortlessly menacing, yet it was as if there were something hiding underneath that was a secret. If I had to bet on it, I would say he was actually a pretty good guy, underneath the cold blooded murderer mask.

Two's tributes were also careers. The girl, Zelda, was tall with dark hair. She was my age. Something about her features just made her appear strong and authoritative; an impression which was complimented by her eyes. This would be the leader of the careers. I was betting my life on it. Dante came off as easy-going and attractive. That would be his strategy. It was easy to believe, with his charming smile and perfect auburn hair. I wondered how many other tributes wouldn't see past the initial, likable personality to the cold and calculating one underneath. Oh yes, Dante was dangerous. Very, very dangerous. For a kid of fifteen, that was impressive.

I almost felt bad for the tributes from three. It was obvious that neither of them stood a chance. They could have been brother and sister for how alike they looked. Their dark complexion did nothing to hide just how malnourished they were. They were the youngest and smallest tributes yet at 15 and 14 respectively. Unless one of them had some serious smarts going on they weren't going to last very long at all.

The tributes from Four were obviously more careers, both 18 and volunteers. The girl, Victoria came off as strong and confident. She was pretty, but not as overwhelmingly beautiful as the other two career girls. She was shorter as well, maybe five four, a couple inches shorter than I was. The boy, Knute, reminded me of Finnick Odair. The color of his hair was similarly metallic, but more to the gold side of things where Finnick's was copper. Most would find him to be the most attractive tribute yet; he wouldn't have a problem getting sponsors.

District Five provided the first tribute of 12, a girl named Isadora. The poor thing looked terrified. The boy however, something seemed… off about him. He was 17, and looked normal enough, but there was something swimming just behind his eyes, just out of sight. I made a note to figure out what that was all about.

There was really nothing special about the tributes from Six. They both looked like bloodbath material to me. They were skinny with hollow eyes. The girl, Trudie, was 16 and the boy, Orson was 13. He looked worse than she did, as though he had been constantly sick as a child, or perhaps still was.

Next I watched my own name be called, I saw myself walk up to the stage and stand there in shock. I saw Isaiah come up to me and I watched as I broke his wrist and Johanna laughed. I heard her snicker and glanced over and gave her a small smile, which she returned.

District Eight provided a small girl of 14 named Silviea. At first glance, she was nothing but bloodbath fodder, but then I saw her eyes. There was a spark there, oh yes. Silviea had some tricks up her sleeve. I might have to watch out for her. Eight also gave the second 12 year old tribute, a boy called Lynden. Eight was the youngest district yet.

Both tributes from Nine were 15. The girl from was called Myrna. She wouldn't last long. She walked to the platform with tears running down her face. I know what you're going to say. Johanna played weak and then killed with no hesitation. But, I had seen through Johanna's façade. It was there, visible for a split second and for a split second only, the fire behind the tears. She was good, but I was better. This girl had no fire. She looked like she had led a soft life, one where fire didn't exist. She wouldn't make it past the bloodbath. Of this I was certain. The boy, called Joen, just looked scared. There were no tears, but he was as useless as the girl. They wouldn't be a problem at all.

The girl from Ten caught my eye immediately. She was stunning. Perhaps not quite as obviously beautiful as the career tributes, but she just had a kind of innocence they lacked. She was 16, with long blonde hair that cascaded softly down her shoulders until it rested at the small of her back. Her name was Calista. She was innocent, yes, but there was something about her that announced she wouldn't go down without a fight. I liked this girl. If I had to have an ally, it would be her. The boy was another 18 year old named Maxwell. He would do alright. He'd probably get through the bloodbath, but wouldn't make the final 8. Not a problem, but not a pushover either.

The girl from 11 was a 13 year old that looked closer to the number of her district. Her name was Deidre. I didn't think she would last very long at all. The boy was a 17 year old named Floyd. He might do alright. Not the best off, but certainly not the worst.

Both tributes from 12 looked utterly pathetic. They looked starved and scared. The girl was named Cynthia and the boy Jeffen. They were 14 and 13. It was awful to see such sorry looking children being sent to their deaths. If they made it through the bloodbath, I'd keel over from shock right then and there.

The Capitol seal flashed one final time and the program ended. Johanna turned off the television and reached out for my notes. I handed them over and she began to read.

**You guys should click that little button there and review, because it would make my entire week. Yeah, that's what you should do. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay guys, I haven't given up on this story, I've just been getting my ass kicked by school. I'm really very sorry for the lack of updates.**

**To be honest I'm a little worried about this chapter. I don't really know how I feel about it. But, I hope you enjoy.**

**Also, thank you all so much for the reviews. I really appreciate it. **

JOHANNA

I read through Quin's notes. To say I was surprised was a bit of an understatement. She had caught everything I had, and more. When I got to the part where she said she had seen through my façade I raised an eyebrow at her and she just shrugged sheepishly. I couldn't have been more happy with Quin's assessment. She was smarter than her sister had been. That in itself was quite an advantage. When I had read through all of her notes I raised my head and announced, "You are good. The best I've ever seen. Even I missed some of those. Like the boy from Five and the girl from Ten. You're right though, now that I think about it." I looked at her contemplatively. She just gave me that smile of hers. "You might just make it through this thing," I admitted, "Now let's talk strategy. How do you want Panem to perceive you?"

She thought about it and countered, "I'm not really sure. They just saw me break a boy's wrist on national television. That's going to influence whatever I try to sell them. It's also going to make some options impossible. I mean, seeming weak is obviously off the table, partly because you're my mentor and it would be an automatic death sentence and partly because I'm obviously not. I'm not sure I could pull off the whole career attitude, though I'll be surprised if I don't get any offers to join them. You're the expert. What's my best bet here?" I seriously wondered if this girl would ever stop surprising me. She had just analyzed the situation as well as I had, and she was asking for my help. I was basically at a complete loss. Come on Johanna, get with it. This girl's a victor if you've ever seen one. Help her survive.

Finally, I managed to gather my wits enough to speak, "You're right. Acting weak isn't an option. They'd hunt you down and kill you before you even knew what happened. As for the situation with the careers, you're right there too." I looked her over, "You're probably the most attractive female tribute this year. That'll get you sponsors and an invitation to join the careers. Especially since you've already proven that you're more than just a pretty face by snapping Isaiah's wrist. They'll want you on their side. Is that what you want to do? Because in reality, all I can do is advise you as to what I think is best. If you don't like what I tell you to do then you aren't going to do it, and I don't want you to die because I'm too stupid to realize that." She looked at me then, with an expression I had no other word for but respect. It was an expression that had never been directed at me, people looked at me with fear, pity, disdain, but never respect.

Her response was soft, "I don't know. I think it would give me a better chance of surviving until most of the other tributes are gone, but I'm not really sure how I feel about alliances after Alixa…" I winced internally. Of course she would be afraid of joining a pack, an alliance of any sort. Her sister had been murdered by her ally in cold blood. She began speaking again, "Especially Dante. I don't like him. He's a murderer inside and out. He can try to hide it all he wants, but he'll enjoy being in the arena. He'll enjoy killing other children. That's the difference between me and him. I'll kill without thinking because I have to. He'll kill because he finds it enjoyable." Yet again the girl surprised me.

I nodded, "Alright. Well, you don't have to make your decision right away. You can wait until you get to know the other tributes if you want to. You'll have plenty of chances in training. You mentioned in your notes that if you had to have an ally you would prefer the girl from ten. I find myself agreeing with you. She doesn't seem like the type to be fickle with her trust though, so you may have to earn it. But, if for some reason you can't bring yourself to ally even with her, that's fine. We'll think of something else."

She was staring at me again, "Why do you care so much? And don't say it's your job. Because I know that's not true. You're not known for being nice either, yet you're not snapping at me or calling me a brainless idiot."

I shrugged, "You're right. It's not strictly my job, but it should be. Like I said, I like you, Quin. You've got what it takes, however good or bad that might be. And I don't want to see that wasted." I took a deep breath and closed my eyes before speaking again, "Also, I remember what it feels like to be you. Hell, two years ago I was you. Only I took a different path, a path that caused my lovely mentor to completely ignore me. If I hadn't had a good head on my shoulders I wouldn't have survived. That feeling, the feeling that nobody cared whether I lived or died, even if I seemed hopeless, is what makes me care so much, even if I don't always show it the same way to all the tributes." I steeled myself before finishing my little speech, "I knew your sister. I liked your sister. I was her mentor last year. And she could have won. She could have. But, I didn't prepare her well enough for betrayal, so she died. I'll never forgive myself for that. So now, now I have a chance to get that poor child at least one family member home, and I'm going to do everything I can to make sure that happens." I look away. I don't know what exactly it is about this girl, but I've never bared my feelings to someone so quickly or so completely. I finally gather up enough courage to look at her face again and she's gaping at me. I stand up, more than a little embarrassed, "Come on. We've done as much as we can tonight. I'll show you to your room." I walked out, leaving Quin to yet again run after me like some kind of duckling.

**I'm sorry it was kind of shortish. And I'm a little worried about my characterization, so any suggestions would definitely be appreciated. **


	4. Chapter 4

**So here's the next chapter for this story. I'm not really sure how I feel about it, but nonetheless, here it is.**

**And thank you all so very much for the reviews, it seriously means the world to me.**

**kidfromsix: I'm actually getting very attached to Quin myself, so I feel the same way, especially since I don't know exactly how that's all going to play out yet.**

QUIN

I scramble after Johanna until I catch up and then follow her to my room. Once I'm inside I sit on the bed and wonder what the heck that was all about. Did Johanna Mason actually just basically spill her guts to me? No. No way. That was impossible. Johanna Mason didn't spill her guts to anyone, much less me. People did always say I was easy to talk to, but that's pretty impressive, even for me. On the plus side, at least she seems to like me; she says she does, anyway. And her actions haven't really done anything to dissuade the idea. Well, except having me chase after her like a lost puppy to my room, however, I think she was just embarrassed. I don't think Johanna was used to people knowing how she felt. About anything. I play back the evening's events in my head. At dinner Isaiah had made another joke about Alixa, after which Blight not so politely told him to stop talking or he wouldn't be getting any gifts from his sponsors. That made me respect Blight a good bit more than I did. He was a good guy, for all he didn't talk much. I recapped the reapings in my head, making sure I knew exactly who the biggest threats were and who I perceived to be the weakest links. Then my mind came around full circle to my conversation with Johanna. She had seemed completely shocked when she read my notes. I didn't think they were that epic, to be honest. I had always been pretty good at reading people. She really thought I had a chance. To be honest, so did I, but hearing it from someone like Johanna, who actually knew what these games were like and what was needed to win made it more believable somehow, more concrete. I was glad she was my mentor. She was still young, only 19, so she remembered the games better than most, though I'm not sure that one ever forgets having to kill other children. I don't think I'll ever be able to if I survive this. I was also glad that she agreed with my assessment of the situation I was in. I couldn't act weak, and I would probably get the chance to be in the career group. Then something rang in the back of my mind, Johanna thought I was the most attractive female tribute this year. Why would she think that? I was certainly nothing compared to Vanna, Zelda, or even Calista. They were all much more beautiful than I could ever hope to be. It was something to think about. I decided that it was probably time for me to get some sleep since I would have to be awake pretty early in the morning as we arrived at the Capitol.

Johanna

I went back to my room after dropping Quin at hers. What the fuck was wrong with me? I never told anyone my feelings. Ever. It just didn't happen. I was Johanna fucking Mason. I didn't have feelings to tell anybody about. But, if that was true, then why the fuck did I just spill my guts out to a 17 year old? Honestly, she was only two years younger than I was, but still. She was a tribute. You don't develop relationships with the tributes. It only ends with them dead and you heartbroken. I couldn't start to like this girl. If she died, it would hurt too much. A voice in the back of my head chose that moment to make itself known. She might not die though. She has a better chance of winning this than anyone you've ever known. She probably had a better chance than you did. She's smarter than you are, anyway. If she's as good with weapons as she is with her brain…

No. I couldn't just befriend her and hope for the best. Isn't that what I'd done with her sister last year? And that had hurt so much. I'd never be able to forgive myself for failing as her mentor. I was supposed to teach her not to trust, but instead I encouraged an alliance with her district partner. Fuck, Johanna. You need to stop. Just focus on keeping this kid alive. Then you can deal with all of these… feelings. Right now you need to find an angle to play to. Some way to make them see her that will help her get sponsors. Sponsors are important. Not having sponsors almost lost you your life two years ago. I fell asleep brooding over the best way to play the game.

My sleep was not entirely restful. In fact, I think I might have been better rested if I had just stayed up all night. My dreams had been filled with images from my own games and seeing Alixa's throat slit. Then they shifted, until I saw Alixa and Quin in every person I killed during my games. With every swing of my axe I saw the life drain out of one of their eyes. I woke gasping for breath and cursing with the breath that I had. This is what happens when you get too close to the tributes. Finnick had warned me. Why the fuck hadn't I listened to him. No, I was more concerned with making these kids feel as though they had a chance than with protecting my sanity. They say that the hard part is winning the games. They're wrong. The hard part comes after.

The train pulled in to the Capitol and I went to rouse our tributes from their doubtfully restful sleep. I knocked on Quin's door with an abrupt, "Hey, we're here. It's time to get up." The door opened almost automatically. From the look on her face she had gotten even less sleep than I had. She looks up at me and murmurs, "You look like you got about as much sleep as I did." I wasn't sure what I was supposed to say to that, so I just nodded. The poor thing looked terrified, an expression I hadn't actually seen on her face before, so I placed my hand on the small of her back and coaxed, "Come on, let's get you to breakfast and your stylist." As we exited the train together I thought to myself, here we go again. Didn't we already decide not to do this? But there was just something about this girl that made it impossible for me to make her go it alone.

**Okay, well, this has been a chapter. I hope you enjoyed it. Regardless of whether you did or not, you should let me know why by clicking that little review button. =)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi guys. I am so sorry it's taken me forever to update this. And I do mean forever. I suck. I know. I've been having some creativity problems to be honest. I wrote this chapter months ago but was trying not to post everything I had written. But for those of you who are sticking with this story (god I really am sorry) I decided to at least give you everything I had.**

**Also. Part of the reason I've been so hesitant to write more of this is the story is freaking out on me. When I started I had a really clear mental outline but I think I got too attached to my own character so I think I might change the direction of this. (Again I'm really really sorry.) I don't know when the next time I post more will be. I'll try to write something but I'm moving out and about to start school again along with work so life is being a bit of an asshole right now. Anyway, thank you for reading and hopefully not hating me (even though I totally would if I were you) okay, here's the next chapter.**

Quin

Breakfast was awkward. It seemed like Blight was the only one who actually got any sleep the night before. I was so upset I could hardly eat. I was actually in the Capitol. It was completely overwhelming. Everything was so different from home. And I was only here to either die or kill other children for the amusement of the sick people that live here. Last night I had been so confident that I could do it, that I could win this thing and come home, but now, here in the daylight, in the Capitol everything seemed tremendously impossible. My chest was so tight it was difficult to breathe. I wasn't sure I'd even make it to meeting my stylist before dying from anxiety. I managed to shove down a couple pieces of toast before my stomach warned me it wouldn't hold anything else. Isaiah and Johanna didn't seem very hungry either, both of them merely picked at their food. I looked across the table at Blight, who was sitting beside Isaiah munching away so happily it made my stomach churn. I'm pretty sure I grimaced at least a little bit. How could he eat right now? Then again, I thought, he's been doing this for years. It's nothing new for him to sit here and have breakfast with kids who might not last the week. His distantness somehow gave me a whole new appreciation for Johanna. She actually cared. She cared whether I lived or died, and knowing that Blight didn't made me feel something close to pity for Isaiah. He was stuck with Blight as a mentor. One of the last people he would see in his life didn't care what fate he would have. The thought was a scary one. I considered that I should maybe be nicer to him, but after the comment he made about Alixa, I just couldn't. I wasn't cold hearted enough to wish a mentor like Blight on Isaiah, but I couldn't help the nagging feeling that he deserved it.

I must have been lost in my thoughts for a lot longer than I realized because I was snapped out of them by a hand on my shoulder. I raised my head, which had been looking almost directly at my lap the entire meal and saw Johanna looking at me with concern. I gave her a small smile and a timid, "Sorry." Something flickered across her face before she nodded, "Come on then. Time to go meet your stylist and get yourself all prettied up." I stood from my chair and followed her out of the room. This was becoming a theme with us, her walking away and just assuming I would follow, I thought.

We entered a room where three women were all atwitter readying what to me looked like instruments of torture. I cast a worried glance up at Johanna, which caused her to snort and assure me, "Don't worry, they aren't going to do irreparable damage. It probably won't be overwhelmingly pleasant, but then again, what part of any of this is?" She introduced me to the three women, Olacaryn, a short, plump woman with light purple skin and white hair, Caiora, a taller woman who was obviously much older than the surgeries made it seem, and Iriella, who looked pretty normal, if you managed to disregard the pointed ears and whiskers she had obviously paid to put in her face. These idiots were my prep team? I wondered as Johanna left. This was going to really fucking suck.

The prep team spent what felt like hours talking about how I would be enviously beautiful if I weren't so savage looking. They soaked me in a chemical bath that burned my skin and then ripped off nearly all of my body hair with strips of what felt like wet paper. Then they dried me off took a little metal tool to my eyebrows. It fucking hurt. The wet my hair and began to cut it. I almost protested; I liked my hair. But they assured me they were just giving it something they called a trim and it wouldn't affect the way it looked very much. When they finished they put something they called make-up on my face. At home I had always just referred to it as face-paint, and there were never so many kinds. They must have put four different liquids on my face and used six on my eyes. I had never really been the kind to care what people thought about me, so the idea of doing all of this for beauty's sake was a little odd. I didn't care if all the boys in Panem wanted to date me, but I did need their money, so I would do this. I would do this so I could win.

After what seemed like a lifetime the prep team was finally done with me. They shooed me into the next room where I was supposed to meet my stylist. A tall, dark woman sat on an incredibly comfortable looking couch. As I entered she rose, "Hello. I'm Marvella. I'm going to be your stylist." Lovely, I thought. I bet I'm going to be a tree. Surprise.

When the parade ended, Isaiah and I met up with Johanna and Blight by our chariot. Johanna and I walked back toward the training center, leaving Isaiah and Blight behind to discuss their own strategy on their own time. We walked to the elevator and got in. The entire time I could only think, god, this suit is itchy. Johanna looked at me squirming and smirked, "A tree, huh? Well. That's a new one," she drawled sarcastically.

I half glared up at her when I responded, "Oh, aren't we just hilarious today. If I recall correctly, you wore nearly the same suit when you were a tribute." She chuckled and flashed me a wide grin.

"Yeah," She laughed, "I think I did." I heard a slight ding before the elevator doors opened, revealing the place where I would be spending what very well could be my final days. The floor had the tallest ceiling I had ever seen with a crystal chandelier hanging down over two couches and a coffee table. The décor was a combination of the richest colors I had ever seen. It just seemed like such an inappropriate place for a simple girl from District Seven to spend her final days. I finally realized that I was still standing in the elevator staring like a crazy woman. Johanna placed her hand on the small of my back and led me to the room she told me would be mine.

JOHANNA

As I led Quin to her room I couldn't help but remember how I had felt upon first seeing this place. It hadn't been very long since I had been the tribute, but it still felt like it was yesterday. It had been completely overwhelming. If you add that to an almost devastating feeling of doom then you've pretty much covered what it feels like to be a tribute. It's a bit like being crushed to death by a huge boulder covered with millions of precious stones. It's the worst thing you've ever had to deal with, but at the same time you can't stop your last thought being, "Ooh, pretty."

When we arrived at Quin's room, I looked down at her, "Okay. Why don't you go change out of that hideous costume, which I'm sure is horribly itchy. I'll be right here when you get done, though. Don't worry." She smiled gratefully up at me and let herself into her room. I leaned against the wall as I waited for her to come back. I was getting too attached. I knew it. It's next to impossible to feel absolutely nothing for your tributes, but, I couldn't get this attached this quickly. It would only end badly, regardless of whether or not Quin survived the Games. But what else could I do? I certainly couldn't stop mentoring her. For one, I was far too attached already to just send her to her death without at least trying to prevent it. I was startled out of my thoughts by the sound of the door latch clicking open.

Quin stepped out of the room looking even better than she had after the stupid stylists had gotten done with her, in my opinion. Her dark hair was pulled back and hung to just past her shoulder blades. She was wearing black pants and a dark blue shirt that captured the color of her eyes and pulled the blue to the forefront, making them infinitely brighter than I had thought they were. The makeup was still mostly on, but with this outfit it looked striking, rather than gaudy. I hadn't been exaggerating when I told her that she was the most attractive of all the female victors this year. Yes, her looks may have been a bit different than the idea of classic beauty back in Seven, but here in the Capitol, they were going to eat it up.

I motioned for her to follow me and walked back out to a smaller sitting room where we could talk about her strategy for training without Isaiah and Blight overhearing us. I sat down on one couch and she sat down across from me.

**Yet again I'm sorry. This is mostly a filler chapter. But it's all I had written and I thought you guys at least deserved that. So thanks for reading and feel free to review either positively or negatively. Reviews do give me a reason to keep writing. **


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